Winning the World Series

Teaching our children the true meaning of “victory.”

Seeing the Yankees celebrate winning the 2009 World Series, pouring champagne all over each other, coaches and teammates jumping up and down, A-Rod, Derek Jeter and Joe Girardi in a wild group embrace, it made me wonder: What is the meaning of “winning”? What is exactly the real purpose of “winning” that people labor so hard and risk so much for it?

To be sure, the desire to "win" would seem to come naturally and early in life. Who as a young child (adults, too) hasn't craved to be the "winner" -- to win a prize, a game or even modest recognition? I remember as a young boy not just wanting to win, but needing to win. And I used to pray for the Yankees to win. I implored God to arrange for a fly ball to drop here or there, or to give Thurman Munson the strength to smack the ball into the stands for a home run.

Watching the Yankees play this year reminded me of all that again. These grown men in pinstripes remind me of the small boys you see in Little League who play to win as if their lives depend on it. Other children compete for who is most popular, as though this distinction were a ticket to immortality. We all know of young people who torture themselves or their bodies in order to be liked or admired.

Jewish Winning

As I was caught up in the pageantry and ersatz gravity of the World Series, it hit me: the concept of “winning” is probably not a "Jewish" thing. Curiously, the modern Hebrew word nitzachon does not appear in the Bible. As a matter of fact, in traditional Jewish life there seems to be no category for “champion” or “number one.” It is far too egotistical. In Western society, when you win in sports, you have “proved” that you are the best. The Talmud on the other hand, famously encourages moderate competition -- only in Torah study -- but warns that he who learns for the sake of triumphing over others receives no reward.

Rather, the Jewish emphasis is on hatzlacha – success. It’s a word you find many times in the Torah, as in the description of Joseph as an Ish Matzliach, a successful man.

So if “winning” is not the Jewish concept of success, then what is?

The measure of success is in the effort, not the result.

In Judaism, the measure of success is in the effort, not the result. The old saying, "It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game" is a value that young people are not instilled with anymore. How tragic. Instead of everyone having the potential to "win" by trying hard, 99 percent are branded as "losers."

In today’s hyper-competitive world, even the “winner” often gets a false sense of achievement. One child with superior natural abilities -- who doesn’t have to try hard -- may win easily and get all the glory. But deep inside, he knows that he has sold himself short by not putting forth the best effort.

So what do we as fathers do to encourage a full effort? Here’s how: Get involved, hands-on. Take your sons and daughters to the ball field and the swimming pool. Observe them. Don’t be afraid to let them struggle a bit. The key is to instruct little -- teach them to hold the bat or to get the ball in the basket -- and then watch them struggle until they master it. Open up the textbook with them. Help them "swim" in their studies.

Your child cannot always be “number one,” but when he succeeds, he ends up winning, too. And that’s something to truly celebrate.

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About the Author

Simon Yisrael Feuerman, PsyD is a psychotherapist in private practice and is the co-director of the New Center for Psychotherapy Studies, a training center for therapists and psychoanalysts, both in Passaic, New Jersey.

He specializes in helping fathers and sons (and parents and children) get along.

He holds a doctorate in psychology from Cal Southern University at Irvine, California and a Master’s degree in Social Work from Yeshiva University. He has trained in modern psychoanalysis at the Center for Modern Psychoanalytic Studies in New York and at the Academy for Clinical and Applied Psychoanalysis in Livingston, New Jersey.

I've been striving to get more into spirituality. But it seems that every time I make some progress, I find myself slipping right back to where I started. I'm getting discouraged and feel like a failure. Can you help?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Spiritual slumps are a natural part of spiritual growth. There is a cycle that people go through when at times they feel closer to God and at times more distant. In the words of the Kabbalists, it is "two steps forward and one step back." So although you feel you are slipping, know that this is a natural process. The main thing is to look at your overall progress (over months or years) and be able to see how far you've come!

This is actually God's ingenious way of motivating us further. The sages compare this to teaching a baby how to walk. When the parent is holding on, the baby shrieks with delight and is under the illusion that he knows how to walk. Yet suddenly, when the parent lets go, the child panics, wobbles and may even fall.

At such times when we feel spiritually "down," that is often because God is letting go, giving us the great gift of independence. In some ways, these are the times when we can actually grow the most. For if we can move ourselves just a little bit forward, we truly acquire a level of sanctity that is ours forever.

Here is a practical tool to help pull you out of the doldrums. The Sefer HaChinuch speaks about a great principle in spiritual growth: "The external awakens the internal." This means that although we may not experience immediate feelings of closeness to God, eventually, by continuing to conduct ourselves in such a manner, this physical behavior will have an impact on our spiritual selves and will help us succeed. (A similar idea is discussed by psychologists who say: "Smile and you will feel happy.")

That is the power of Torah commandments. Even if we may not feel like giving charity or praying at this particular moment, by having a "mitzvah" obligation to do so, we are in a framework to become inspired. At that point we can infuse that act of charity or prayer with all the meaning and lift it can provide. But if we'd wait until being inspired, we might be waiting a very long time.

May the Almighty bless you with the clarity to see your progress, and may you do so with joy.

In 1940, a boatload 1,600 Jewish immigrants fleeing Hitler's ovens was denied entry into the port of Haifa; the British deported them to the island of Mauritius. At the time, the British had acceded to Arab demands and restricted Jewish immigration into Palestine. The urgent plight of European Jewry generated an "illegal" immigration movement, but the British were vigilant in denying entry. Some ships, such as the Struma, sunk and their hundreds of passengers killed.

If you seize too much, you are left with nothing. If you take less, you may retain it (Rosh Hashanah 4b).

Sometimes our appetites are insatiable; more accurately, we act as though they were insatiable. The Midrash states that a person may never be satisfied. "If he has one hundred, he wants two hundred. If he gets two hundred, he wants four hundred" (Koheles Rabbah 1:34). How often have we seen people whose insatiable desire for material wealth resulted in their losing everything, much like the gambler whose constant urge to win results in total loss.

People's bodies are finite, and their actual needs are limited. The endless pursuit for more wealth than they can use is nothing more than an elusive belief that they can live forever (Psalms 49:10).

The one part of us which is indeed infinite is our neshamah (soul), which, being of Divine origin, can crave and achieve infinity and eternity, and such craving is characteristic of spiritual growth.

How strange that we tend to give the body much more than it can possibly handle, and the neshamah so much less than it needs!